


blue sky mind

by thejunebugg



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Grey's Anatomy AU, Minor Fatin Jadmani/Leah Rilke, Smut, The Unsinkable Eight (The Wilds)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-21 09:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30019977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejunebugg/pseuds/thejunebugg
Summary: “So, that’s that,” Shelby says. “Consider this me setting boundaries. You know, drawing a line.”“Right. And is this line, theoretically, a bit flexible?”“Flexible?”“Yeah,” Toni says. “Like, could I move the line so I wouldn’t be crossing it if I were to kiss you?”
Relationships: Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe
Comments: 42
Kudos: 405





	1. i remember you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all titles are coming from trevor hall's album "in and through the body"  
> uploads every sunday!

Shelby wakes with a groan. The rising sunlight tries to peek it’s way through the curtains. She sits up and leans back on her elbows as she takes in her surroundings. 

It’s a living room, her living room. Well, it didn’t used to be, but it sort of is now. 

There’s barely anything in it, even after a week of living in it. There’s a ratty rug on the floor and an even rattier couch, but no artwork on the walls or pictures in frames. The kitchen table has 3 chairs, all falling apart, and her bed upstairs is just a mattress on the floor. 

So, it’s a work in progress. 

Shelby is currently laying on the floor, on that exact ratty rug, with a quilt resting haphazardly over her hips. It takes a moment for her to realize that she’s fully naked and that there’s a body next to her. Whoever it is is laying on their stomach, facing away from Shelby with dark brown curls fanning wildly over a throw pillow. 

Though hazily, it starts to come back. A bar, some drinks, meeting someone new, more drinks, maybe a game of pool, even more drinks, and then stumbling through her front door with her arms full of - 

A woman. 

_Oh fuck,_ Shelby thinks, _that’s a woman_. 

It was only a matter of time, Shelby knows that. She knew it was inevitable. After leaving Texas, after Becca… 

It was bound to happen. 

She takes a sharp breath as the woman groans and rolls over. She blinks awake, smacking her lips which are bone dry from all the alcohol. “Fuck,” the random person moans in lieu of a greeting, “did we get hit by a bus last night?” 

Shelby hates how the rasp sends a desperate heat directly to her core. She chuckles, but then she’s quick to stand and wrap the quilt tightly around her body. She doesn’t realize how that action now leaves the stranger completely naked on the floor, but the woman doesn’t seem to care. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

Oh. That’s sort of sweet. Shelby doesn’t feel particularly okay, but she nods furiously as she trips over clothes strewn throughout the room. 

“Real good, just, uh, hungover?” 

“Mm. Well, I love what you’ve done with the place,” the brunette muses after a yawn. 

“Um, thank you.” 

“I didn’t get a great look last night, but wow,” she says, “really homey. Nice little crack house you got here.”

“Yeah, I actually think that’s an insult to crack houses.” 

The stranger laughs, though it’s more like an uninhibited cackle, and Shelby’s heart flutters. “It was my grandma’s house. She passed away a few weeks ago, but I think I’m gonna stay here. Not sure though, might put it on the market.” 

“I’m really sorry to hear that. Well, that she passed away. It’s nice that she left it to you, though.” 

Shelby nods because it is nice, but she knows that her grandmother was never going to leave it to anyone else. 

“So,” Shelby says “I really have to go get ready for work.” 

“Yeah, you mentioned that you’re starting a new job today.”

“I did?” 

“You sure did.” 

“Uh, what else did I mention?” 

“A lot,” the stranger says with a smirk, then groans as she stretches. 

It’s then that she stands, entirely nude, and stretches her arms over her head. She’s all smooth caramel skin and perfect muscles and _fuck_. 

“Okay, so I’m gonna go. I have to get ready. I said that already, but… yeah. But, um, thank you. I guess. And, uh, the front door is over there.” 

The brunette quirks an eyebrow and raises her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, Blondie. Message received. Should I leave my number?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Shelby throws the brunette what she assumes are her clothes. “Um, goodbye...” 

“Toni,” she introduces herself, reaching out her hand to shake. She’s only put on her bra, and Shelby’s face is so flushed that she thinks she might pass out. All the same, she shakes the hand. 

“Shelby,” she replies, and then she’s sprinting up the steps. She only steps in the shower after she hears the front door closed. 

When she’s finally prepared to drive to the hospital, she runs to the kitchen for a cup of shitty coffee and an over-ripe banana. It’s when she’s about to head out that she sees it - ten numbers scribbled on a piece of ripped newspaper. 

_just in case_ accompanies the phone number, and Shelby enters it in her phone. 

Just in case.

\- - - - - 

“Each of you comes here today hopeful, wanting in on the game. A month ago, you were in med school being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors,” the Chief of Surgery, Dr. Gretchen Klein, says. All of the interns are dispersed throughout the operating room, looking at the equipment in complete wonder. 

“The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition.” 

These people aren’t her competition. Shelby’s competition is over a thousand miles away, in a state known for inauthentic, unfairly-claimed Mexican food and overwhelming bigotry. 

Here, at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota, Shelby’s only competition is herself. 

“Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play...That's up to you.” 

Her conclusion is definitely meant to be dramatic and intense, but it mostly feels like Chief Klein is trying too hard to be powerful. 

“Seems like she’s compensating for something,” the girl next to her says as they all walk to the locker room. She’s got olive skin and dark hair, with striking features and a massive smile. 

“She’s the Chief of Surgery,” Shelby warns through a whisper and the girl rolls her eyes, smiling all the same. 

“Whatever. I’m Fatin, by the way. UCLA, second in my class. Fucking Michael Pfeiffer can suck my dick.” 

Shelby laughs and shakes her head in disbelief. This girl is already proving to be something else. 

“I’m Shelby.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Fatin says.

They all find their assigned lockers and change into their scrubs. Shelby loves the feeling of wearing scrubs, not because they’re comfortable but because of what they mean. 

“A 48-hour first shift,” the boy next to her says as he unpacks his backpack into his locker, organizing his books like a high schooler. “When do you suppose we’ll get to sleep?” 

“Never,” someone snorts.

“We can sleep when we’re dead,” someone else says, and everyone laughs. Shelby does too, but then she sees who said it - a dark-skinned girl with her curly hair sitting atop her head in a bun - and she looks like she was being dangerously serious. 

Shelby gulps. 

“Alright, listen up,” a resident exclaims as he enters the locker room, “listen for your name to hear where you can meet with your assigned resident.”

“Who’d you get?” Fatin asks as she laces up her sneakers. 

“Dr. Campbell,” Shelby replies. 

“Me too! Not as in the movement against sexual abuse and harassment, but as in I have her too!” Fatin exclaims. Shelby is excited for Fatin to receive initial feedback on her bedside manner.

“You got Survivorman? So did I,” a skinny boy with short, light brown hair beams. 

“Same,” the curly-haired hard ass says. 

They introduce themselves on their way to meet with Dr. Campbell. Ian graduated from UPenn and Rachel graduated top of her class from NYU. 

“Where’d you go to school, Shelby?” 

“Uh,” Shelby swallows, and she’s quick to change the conversation. “Hey, why do they call Dr. Campbell ‘Survivorman?’” 

“I heard it’s because their patients never die,” Ian says. 

“No, it’s because they know how to perform surgery with primitive tools,” Fatin muses confidently. 

Shelby chuckles as Rachel asks a nurse where Dr. Campbell is. The nurse points down the hallway, and they all stop dead in their tracks. 

“ _That’s_ Survivorman?” Fatin says. 

“I guess I didn’t expect Survivorman to be… a woman,” Ian falters. 

“That’s sexist,” Rachel declares.

“What? No it isn’t,” Ian fumbles fearfully, “the word ‘man’ is in her nickname.”

Survivorman - Dr. Campbell - is not only a woman, but she’s got old headphones perched on her head as she fills out paperwork and taps her foot to music. A cassette player hangs over the pocket of her white coat. When they’re in front of her, she notices them immediately. 

“Sup idiots,” their resident greets them, “I’m Dr. Dorothy Campbell. You can call me Dr. Campbell, you can call me Dot, you can call me Doc Dot, you can call me Master - I don’t give a shit. Just don’t call me in the middle of the night because you killed a patient.”

Rachel is writing it all down, as if any of it will make an impact on her ability to perform as a surgeon. Shelby wonders if maybe she should be taking notes, too. Fatin, on the other hand, sticks out her hand and introduces herself. 

“I’m Dr. Fatin Jadmani.” 

They all look at her like she’s grown another head.

“Congratulations. Alright, here’s the lowdown,” Dr. Campbell says as she hands the four interns their pagers. “Learn the trauma protocol, memorize the phone lists, always respond to your pages. Nurses will page you, you answer every page at a run. Understood?” 

They all nod furiously. Shelby thinks she can see Ian tearing up in fear. 

“I suggest learning your place sooner rather than later,” Dot continues as they walk through the hospital. “You're interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain. You run labs, write orders, work every second night until you drop, and if you’re caught complaining, you will be slaughtered. Approach everyone as if they hate you and you have to earn their respect, because they do - and you do. But you’ll be a better doctor for it.”

This is more Shelby’s speed - intense, straightforward, no-nonsense reality checks. She lived in such a fabricated world for so long that she now far prefers the brutal honesty of the real world. 

“Sleep whenever you can, wherever you can. On-call rooms are great, but attendings hog them, so don’t be surprised if you never see one for a while.”

Dot pauses, looking at each of her interns. She’s effectively sizing them up before she sighs and shakes her head. 

“You’ll have to do. Alright, I only have one rule - do whatever I say. Do what I tell you, listen closely. Follow me when I move, get out of my way when I’m kicking ass, ask any questions you have unless they’re stupid questions.”

Fatin raises her hand. Dot raises her eyebrows as if to say _go on_. 

“That was, like, a bunch of rules.” 

“It’s all one rule,” Dot almost screams, and Fatin flinches before nodding abruptly. Shelby almost laughs, Rachel seems to think she’s been grouped with a bunch of morons, and Ian still appears to be on the verge of peeing his pants. 

Dot’s pager beeps.

“Let’s move.”

\- - - - - 

The helicopter’s rotary wings spin frantically and fiercely as it lowers onto the roof of the hospital. The interns wheel the stretcher over to where it lands. 

“What do we got?” Dot asks as two paramedics help to place a patient, a young girl still convulsing, onto the stretcher.

“Caroline Bryce,” one paramedic screams over the sound of helicopter chopping, “fifteen-year-old female. New onset seizures, intermittent for the past week. Started grand mal seizing as we descended.”

Shelby keeps a close eye on the patient as they push her back into the hospital. She’d never seen a seizure so intense or long lasting. 

“Let’s get her on her side.” Dot’s voice is steady when they get Caroline into a room. She barks out instructions coherently and carefully.

“Rachel, ten milligrams Diazepam. Shelby, use a large bore I.V. - you don't want the blood to hemolyze. White lead, Ian, not red.” 

Rachel makes the injection perfectly. Caroline begins to calm, and Shelby feels herself being able to breathe again. Another doctor, an attending judging by the dark blue of his scrubs, busts through the door. 

“Fill me in, Dr. Campbell.”

“Dr. Young,” Dot greets before giving him a rundown. 

“Alright,” Dr. Young says, “let’s shotgun her.” 

“That’s every test in the book, dummies,” Dot asserts, and Dr. Young doesn’t seem at all perturbed by her calling the new interns “dummies.” 

“Every test?” Ian asks for clarification. 

“That’s right. CT, CBC, a tox screen, all of it.” Dot exhales, like the intensity of it all is finally catching up to her. Shelby realizes in that moment that this is Dr. Campbell’s first time with interns. Maybe she’s nervous, too. Maybe she’s just pretending to know what she’s doing like the rest of them are.

“Okay. Ian, you’re on patient workups. Rachel, labs. Shelby, you get Caroline for a CT first. She’s your responsibility now.” Dot is making her way to the door and Fatin calls after her.

“Wait, what about me?” 

Dot looks her up and down. “Rectal exams.” 

“Is that a fucking joke?” Fatin croaks once Dot is gone. 

Shelby grimaces. “Maybe don’t say anything about the rules next time.” 

\- - - - - 

“Are you lost?” Caroline asks from her spot in her hospital bed, now being wheeled throughout the hospital. 

“I’m not lost,” Shelby claims. The elevator doors open and Shelby pushes the bed inside. She looks at the 14 buttons, indicating a different floor each, and lets out a shaky breath. “Radiology is on four… I think,” she says to herself. 

The elevator dings and she pushes Caroline into it. When they reach the floor, the hallways are dark and filled with hospital detritus.

“You’re lost,” Caroline recognizes.

“No I’m not. How are you feeling?” 

“Shitty. I’m in the hospital, having seizures, and I’m not at my pageant right now.” 

“You do pageants?” 

“Yes, and spare me any feminist bullshit you’re ready to spew.” 

“Well, I do have a feminist rhetoric to share, but not in the way you’d think.”

Caroline raises an eyebrow. Shelby smiles at her, effectively hiding the fact that they are very lost. “I did pageants, too.” 

“You did?” Caroline doesn’t seem impressed, or surprised. She almost seems put off. 

“Med school doesn’t pay for itself,” Shelby mumbles. 

“Did you win at all?” 

Shelby won a lot. Her response is a modest shrug.

“Well, this is supposed to be my year. Miss Minnesota's Outstanding Teen? Yeah, I’m basically a guarantee. I could’ve won the whole thing.”

Shelby wonders if she was this annoying when she was fifteen, doing pageants and everything else in her power to save money for a clean escape. 

“What was your talent? Mine’s rhythmic gymnastics,” Caroline continues. “No one else does it, which is super cool. But get this - one time I tripped over my ribbon and twisted my ankle. And guess what else? The nurse that helped me was just as clueless as you are - _not_.” 

Gritting her teeth, Shelby tries to stay calm. Five hours in and she’s already about to blow a gasket.

Half an hour of Caroline’s whining later, she finally finds the CT scan room. 

\- - - - - 

“Guys, take a look at these.” 

“What is this?” Fatin asks. 

“Caroline Bryce’s labs,” Rachel says. “They’re totally clear. Nothing to explain the seizures.” Shelby hums as she gives them another once over. 

“Shit,” Shelby mumbles. “The CT was clear, too.” 

Rachel sighs. “Just great.”

“Means we’re closer to finding out what’s actually wrong, doesn’t it?” Shelby hopes aloud. 

“Keep the optimism alive, Goodkind,” Fatin laughs. “Let’s go tell Survivorman.” 

“Don’t you have rectal exams to do?” Rachel teases as they start their quest to find Dot. 

“Finished them in _record_ time,” Fatin boasts. 

Rachel’s _pfft_ echoes through the hospital. “Sure you weren’t rushing? You might wanna triple check your work.” 

“Screw off,” Fatin laughs, and Shelby joins in. She watches as they banter back and forth. Rachel is so intense, so stone-cold and certain, that any crack of a smile or fond eye-roll can light up a whole room. Fatin, on the other hand, is so ridiculous all the time that every time she says something insanely smart, Shelby forgets how intelligent she clearly is. 

Ian catches up with them, and everything about him screams _I’m still about to shit myself_. Fatin pushes his shoulder with a chuckle as he almost cries about all the embarrassing things he’s done in the past few hours. 

_Shit_ , Shelby thinks fondly. She might’ve found her people. 

\- - - - - 

Dot is frustrated after seeing the labs. “Everything is looking clean. What are we thinking?” 

The interns look at each other. 

“Neuro consult?” Fatin guesses. 

“Bingo. Let’s move.” 

Shelby is quick to follow Dot before stopping dead in her tracks. 

“Holy fucking shit.” 

Because across the lobby stands Toni, no longer fully naked, but rather in dark blue scrubs and a bright white doctor’s coat. 

When the brunette spots her, her eyes go comically wide and she does a dramatic double take. Then she shakes her head like she can’t believe it, oblivious to the fellow surgeons attempting to continue their conversation with her. All the same, she’s got a smile on her face that Shelby _knows_ can’t be good - like she’s happy to see her. 

Toni waves and Shelby looks away. 

“What’s wrong?” Fatin asks. “Shit, you looking at Dr. Shalifoe? Relatable. She’s a fucking smokeshow. You know she’s like the youngest attending in the history of this entire hospital?” 

“You’re joking,” Shelby says. 

“Nope,” Fatin pops the “p.” She whistles, impressed. “Damn. _Hello_ , Dr. Shalifoe.” 

“Okay,” Shelby stutters, “let’s go.” 

She pushes Fatin forward, but she spares one glance back to Toni as they round the corner. 

Toni’s gaze is still on her. 

\- - - - - 

Caroline’s parents arrive in a panic. The nurses tell Shelby that they called every half-hour to give them an update on their ETA. The intensity of their arrival shocks no one, least of all Shelby, who is very used to dealing with high-maintenance and borderline cruel parents. 

“We’re still trying to get to the bottom of what could be causing Caroline’s seizures,” Shelby explains calmly. 

“Are you even her doctor?” Mr. Bryce says dramatically. His wife, Caroline’s mother, sits next to the girl's bed tearfully.

“I’m one of her doctors,” Shelby says quietly, careful not to wake Caroline. Her parents don’t seem to have the same concern. 

“Well, we’d like to speak to someone who actually knows what’s going on with our daughter.” 

“Pardon me,” a voice comes from the door. Shelby turns and tries not to look too surprised to see Toni standing there. She enters the room confidently, with Dot on her heels, and extends a hand to Mr. Bryce. “I’m Dr. Shalifoe, pediatrics attending.” 

_Peds?_ Shelby knows her face is betraying her right now. Not only is Toni a surgeon at the same hospital that she has now begun her internship, but she’s an attending - in _peds_. 

“Great, maybe you can tell us what the hell is wrong with our daughter.” 

“Mr. and Mrs. Bryce, with all do respect, Dr. Goodkind is entirely correct. We are still in the process of figuring out the source of your daughter’s seizures. A lot of our tests are coming back clear - but that’s a good thing. Every time we can cross something off the list of potentials, we get closer to the answer.” 

Shelby thinks back to when she essentially said the same thing to Rachel and Fatin. She hides her smile by looking down at her shoes. 

“So,” Toni continues once it seems that the Bryces have accepted the reality of the situation, “Dr. Goodkind is going to run a few more labs and I’m going to consult with our head of neurology. We still have a few more tests to run. Dr. Campbell here can answer any other questions you might have.” 

Mr. Bryce’s nod is curt. 

Shelby takes the lab work out of Toni’s hands and practically sprints into the hallway. 

She’s apparently not quick enough, because Toni’s hand finds her arm and pulls her into a stairwell. Shelby tries to ascend the steps, but the brunette’s voice stops her.

“Shelby,” Toni almost begs. 

Shelby turns from her place on the first stair, one hand clenched on the railing of the stairs and the other crinkling the labs she needs to deliver. 

“We’re not doing this.” 

“Doing what. Talking?” 

“Yup. Exactly. We’re not talking. We… we can’t talk about this. We need to pretend it never happened.” 

“What never happened?” Toni teases. 

“I’m not saying it,” Shelby huffs. 

“Maybe if you say it,” Toni argues, “it might help. We get it out in the open, address it, and then figure it out from there.” 

_Figure what out_ , Shelby wonders, but she nods regardless. “Okay. You’re right. That’s the smart, adult thing to do.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“So it happened. We had sex last night.” 

“Yes. And how would you rate that sexual experience, on a scale from mind blowing and earth-shattering?”

“No comment. Look,” Shelby steps down and Toni steps forward. Now that they’re closer, Shelby can really see the soft brown of Toni’s eyes and the sporadic freckles painted across her face. 

“We can’t do this,” Shelby continues softly. “You’re my boss, and I’m your intern. Power dynamics, the perception of special treatments - it’s _no bueno._ And I have to focus and be the best, so I really don’t have time for any of that.”

Toni nods, over and over again, and they’re both wholly aware of the way their eyes flicker to each other’s lips.

“So, that’s that,” Shelby concludes. “Consider this me setting boundaries. You know, drawing a line.”

“Right. And is this line, theoretically, a bit flexible?”

“Flexible?”

“Yeah,” Toni says. “Like, could I move the line so I wouldn’t be crossing it if I were to kiss you?” 

Shelby closes her eyes and wills the corners of her mouth to tilt downward, but to no avail. 

“No, the line is not theoretically flexible.” 

“And how about in actuality?” 

Shelby leans forward, her face now dangerously close to Toni’s. The attending tilts her head and smiles ever so slightly. 

“We’re done talking about this,” Shelby whispers, and then she’s making her way up the stairs. 

“Did you put my number in your phone?” Toni calls after her, showing no sign that she’s absorbed any of what the blonde is saying. 

Shelby blushes and purses her lips in an attempt to stop a smile. 

“Again, no comment.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first few chapters borrows a lot from the show but then it diverges a bit more!


	2. without exception

Despite performing a dozen rectal exams, Fatin’s appetite doesn’t seem fazed. 

“Good god, woman, are you even chewing?” Rachel balks. 

“Me? Ian is the one inhaling his lunch like a fucking vacuum.” 

“I’m hungry, sue me,” Ian mumbles through a mouthful of his sandwich. 

The cafeteria isn’t too crowded. “Lunch” doesn’t have real meaning in hospital time since everyone just eats whenever they can. They go about chatting about little moments they missed with each other throughout the day. Ian tells them about his patient work-ups and Rachel rants about the hospital politics they’ve already been witness to. 

Although, Shelby has a hard time focusing on anything. As hard as she’s been trying not to, she can’t keep her mind off Toni. 

“Hey, Fatin,” she prompts, careful not to draw attention from anyone else at their table. Fatin hums from where she’s shoving cantaloupe in her mouth and reading a book about microsurgery. “What do you know about Dr. Shalifoe?” 

“Just that she’s a grade-A baddie.” 

“Okay, what kind of fucking frat douche are you?” Shelby trills.

“Majored in beer pong, baby,” Fatin teases. She closes her book and angles herself towards Shelby. “Shalifoe is nuts,” she continues. “She was a kid genius. She practically skipped all of high school - a good chunk of undergrad, too. Graduated top of her class from Johns Hopkins. Apparently she turned down a crazy neonatal fellowship just to stay in peds. Girl is the epitome of passion.” 

Shelby’s mind reels from all the information. Not only is Toni one of the smartest doctors in the hospital, but is clearly one of the most dedicated as well. Her journey began at such a young age, too. Shelby genuinely has no clue how old she is. 

She still can’t get over it. The random woman Shelby woke up with that morning is the same one she’s now reporting to about a patient. There’s so much to know about her, forget the fact that Toni is her boss by definition. 

“How do you know all this?” Shelby asks when she snaps out of her haze.

“I have a stupid good memory, so I read up on all the attendings before I got here. I literally know the hospital where every attending was born.”

“You’re unwell.” 

“Why do you wanna know? Tryna slide in?” Fatin wiggles her eyebrows. 

“God, no,” Shelby lies. “I’m just, um, interested in peds.” 

Fatin makes an understanding noise. “If it’s peds you want, Shalifoe’s your gal.”

“Do you know what you want to do? For your specialty?” Shelby segues nicely. 

“You’re looking at the future of plastics right here,” Fatin says. 

“Wow,” Rachel snorts, “big dreams you’re living.” 

“Hey, plastics isn’t just boob jobs and ass implants. It’s restoration and reconstruction. It’s all -” 

“Yeah, I really don’t care to hear this,” Rachel interrupts, and Fatin rolls her eyes. 

“Don’t be an ortho supremacist. What are you interested in, Ian?” 

“No idea,” Ian says.

Shelby also has little clue what she wants her specialty to be. She’s always found neuro fascinating, but cardio seems interesting too. She’s usually pretty good with kids, so peds could be fun. She knows that she has plenty of time to figure that out. 

“Still can’t believe they let my sexy ass into this program,” Fatin wonders aloud. “All the patients are gonna be so distracted by my perfect tits.” 

“I think you’re more distracted by your perfect tits than anyone else,” Rachel says. 

“So you agree that they’re perfect?” 

Rachel throws a baby carrot at Fatin, but lets a laugh escape from the corner of her mouth. 

Dr. Young approaches from the cafeteria entrance, and another intern sitting at their table warns them all with a grunt.

“Good afternoon interns,” he says. “I wanted to share some good news personally. As you know, we give the honor of performing the first surgery to the intern who shows the most promise. I’m in charge of the OR today, so I get to make that choice.”

They all wait to hear with baited breath. Shelby knows she’s been doing well so far today, but nothing she’s done indicates that she shows the most promise - even though she’d wager that she does. 

Dr. Young claps Ian on the back. “Ian Murnen, congratulations. You'll scrub in for an appendectomy this afternoon.” 

None of the interns look at each other as Dr. Young walks away. Rachel seems furious, Fatin seems disappointed, and Ian seems shocked in a way that keeps him petrified. 

“Did he say my name?” he finally splutters. 

Shelby hands him a napkin. “You’ve got some mustard on your chin,” she whispers. 

Ian wipes it away quickly and swallows visibly. “Sorry, did he say my name?” 

“Shut the fuck up, Ian,” Rachel says, and Ian does. 

\- - - - - 

Shelby sees Toni again two times before she goes to watch Ian perform the appendectomy. Once when she delivers Caroline’s last set of labs - again, all clear - and again when she’s filling out paperwork at a nurse’s station.

Toni walks out of a patient's room with a frustrated huff. She walks over to the same nurse’s station and starts updating the patient’s chart, shaking her head and grumbling under her breath. 

“Everything okay?” Shelby asks without looking up from her work. 

Toni notices her then, and the way she brightens is a bit too visible. 

“People can be dumb. Me, I’m never dumb. I’m actually the smartest person alive.” 

“Get over yourself,” Shelby teases, and Toni barks out a laugh. 

The brunette turns back to her paperwork, but it’s clear she’s a bit put off by something. Shelby does the only thing she can think of - she reaches into her pocket and takes out a piece of candy. 

“Reese’s Cup?” 

“You keep these on you?” Toni asks, hesitating only briefly before grabbing the candy and popping it in her mouth. 

“Never know when you’re gonna need a little pick me up,” Shelby sings. 

“Very true, but why Reese's Cups?” 

“Oh no,” Shelby turns herself fully to Toni and points a pen at her. “Do _not_ tell me you pronounce it like that.” 

“Like what?” The brunette has a knowing look on her face, then repeats the candy’s name by pronouncing it “rees-ees cups.” 

“Stop it right now. You’re a fucking world class surgeon and you pronounce Reese’s Cups like a toddler.”

“I’m saying it the same way that you’re saying it,” Toni claims playfully.

“Whatever. I know a lost cause when I see one.” 

“Oh, so you look in the mirror a lot then?” 

“Ha-ha, very funny.” 

“I mean, I would if I were you - look in the mirror a lot, that is.” 

“Don’t,” Shelby warns shallowly, but her eyes beg _please, move the line_.

After a long pause, Toni whispers, “‘cause you’re pretty.” 

“Okay,” Shelby laughs, “enough of you. Go away.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Toni hums, “Thanks for the candy, Blondie.” 

Toni is off with a smile, and this time, Shelby is left looking after her.

\- - - - - 

They all watch Ian try and fail not to fuck up the appendectomy. Before that, they’re taking bets on whether or not he’ll flop entirely. 

“Twenty bucks says he faints at the first drop of blood,” one intern says. 

“Nah,” another says, “it’s gonna be a code brown. Right in his pants.” 

If Shelby were to think about it seriously, she would also put money on a code brown - just judging off of what she knows about Ian so far. Still, it doesn’t stop her from wagering fifty dollars that he’ll finish the surgery flawlessly. 

“He’s one of us,” Shelby claims, letting the other interns absorb the shame. “Let’s show some loyalty.” 

There’s a long pause before Fatin says, “seventy-five says he can’t even find the appendix,” and then everyone is laughing - even Shelby - as Rachel reaffirms Fatin’s bet. 

Ian actually does surprisingly well at first. His first cut is perfect and he gets the appendix out of the patient efficiently. 

“Well done. Now, be careful,” Dr. Young says through his mask. “You have to invert the stump into the cecum, but you don’t want to break the purse-strings when pulling.” 

A monitor starts beeping. 

“And you ripped it,” Young says. “What did I just say?” 

“Shit, I-” Ian stammers. 

“Bleeding like crazy now, filling with stool. What’s next? Let’s go, Murnen, on your toes.” 

Ian trembles as the interns watch from the gallery with intent stares. “Could’ve called this one,” Rachel mutters, and Shelby gulps nervously. She doesn’t want Ian to fail, but it’s too late. Dr. Young is screaming at him to _get the hell out of my OR_ and then Ian is scrambling for the door. 

They all wait for Young to finish the procedure before exiting the gallery, and Shelby actively searches for Ian. Fatin and Rachel follow her, maybe only because they feel like they have to. They find Ian in a semi-empty corridor, his head held low, but he isn’t alone. There’s another doctor standing there with him, her hand on his shoulder. 

“Who is that?” Rachel asks from Shelby’s right. 

“Dr. Rilke,” Fatin mumbles. 

“You know her?” Shelby asks. 

Fatin shrugs. “Kinda. I mean, yes. We went to the same high school, actually.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, but she was a few years ahead of me. She’s smart. Third year neuro resident.” 

Shelby offers an impressed nod. Dr. Rilke gives one more comforting squeeze to Ian’s shoulder before walking away. She’s heading towards the girls, who give awkward closed-mouth smiles. 

“Fatin,” Dr. Rilke greets, and it sounds almost smug. 

“Leah.” 

Shelby doesn’t love the look of Leah’s smile as she passes them, bumping Fatin’s shoulder with her own almost imperceptibly. 

“Hey Ian, you okay?” Shelby is as sympathetic as she can be. She can’t imagine the stress Ian felt, the pressure of the first surgery combined with obnoxious scrutiny from every other intern in the program. Still, she _can_ imagine how she wouldn’t have screwed anything up if she was in there. 

“Yeah,” Ian nods. “Just fucking pissed at myself.” 

“We wouldn’t be interns if we didn’t make mistakes,” Rachel says, and it’s about the nicest thing she could say in that moment. 

“Exactly,” Shelby encourages, “you made a mistake. What they want to see now is how to deal with it.” 

Ian nods, reinvigorated. “You’re right. I just have to be better. Learn from it.” 

“Exactly. Buck up, kiddo,” Fatin adds and it’s blatantly half-hearted. “Hey, since we’re here, how do you know Dr. Rilke?” 

Ian gives Fatin a funny look. “She helped me with a patient work-up this morning.” 

“Mighty nice of her to check in on you,” Fatin says. There’s a touch of accusation within the statement that they all pick up on, and Shelby makes a mental note to check in with Fatin about it later. 

She gives Ian an awkward side-hug before waving her fellow interns goodbye, deciding that now is as good a time as any to get an update on Caroline.

\- - - - - 

Toni is sitting on Caroline’s bed, talking casually with the young patient, when Shelby goes in to check on her. She’s too far through the door to make an escape, but she goes to attempt one anyway. It’s too late though, because Caroline spots her and calls her further into the room. 

“Dr. Goodkind!” If Shelby didn’t know better, she’d say that the girl sounded happy to see her. 

Toni turns and her smile remains. “Dr. Goodkind,” she greets as well, and Shelby’s smile is authentic. 

“What’s going on in here?” she asks, busying herself by looking over Caroline’s chart. 

“Dr. Shalifoe,” Caroline says with a wicked grin, “did you know that Dr. Goodkind did pageants too?” 

Shelby feels her face flush as she glares at Caroline, quick to change her facial features when Toni turns around to give her an animated smile. “You don’t say,” the brunette muses. 

“Let’s not talk about it."

“What was your talent, Dr. Goodkind?” Caroline asks innocently, ignoring Shelby’s request. “You never told me.” 

They both look at her expectantly, so she sighs and leans a hand on her hip. 

“Music. I sang.” 

“Of _course_ you did,” Caroline leers. “You and every other contestant.” 

Toni’s eyebrows are close to her hairline as she looks between the two of them with a fascinated smile. She clearly can’t get enough of it. “Oh, get _burned_ , Dr. Goodkind.”

“Well, at least I didn’t pick something just to be unique and then _twist my ankle_ ,” Shelby throws back, and Caroline’s indignant _hey_ is covered up by Toni’s laugh.

“Alright, break it up, you two. God, is this what being a parent is like?” 

In the background, Shelby can hear Caroline trying to sell Toni on rhythmic gymnastics - about how it’s actually _super_ hard, and how the judges love that it’s so different. In the foreground, her mind gives her the answer they’ve been looking for. 

Rhythmic gymnastics. Twisting her ankle. _Falling_ and twisting her ankle. 

“Dr. Shalifoe,” Shelby interrupts loudly, “can I speak to you in the hallway for a minute?” 

“Of course. Caroline, stay out of trouble, all right? No bullying the nurses.” 

“No promises,” Caroline calls after them. 

Out in the hallway, Toni doesn’t seem concerned with why Shelby pulled her out. 

“What can I do for you, pageant queen?” 

“First of all, screw you,” Shelby hisses. “Second of all, Caroline, she - okay, she has no headaches, no neck pain, and her CT's clean. There's no medical proof of an aneurysm.”

Toni nods. “So?”

“So what if she has one anyway?”

“How do you figure?” Toni, to her credit, gives Shelby room to explain herself despite being fully aware of how unlikely it is. 

“She twisted her ankle and fell to the ground. It wasn’t anything, she doesn’t even recall bumping her head. She went to the hospital to confirm it wasn’t a sprain, but with ice, she was totally fine. It was so minor an incident that no one thought to mention it - not seriously, anyway.” 

“Neuro will tell you that there’s a one in a million chance,” Toni says. “How do you sell it?” 

“Um.” 

“C’mon, Shelby. Think. You’re fighting for your patient.” 

Shelby gulps. “One in a million. Someone has to be that ‘one,’ right? There’s always a chance. We owe it to Caroline to see if she’s the one. ‘Cause if we don’t, she dies - and we wouldn’t have even tried everything we could.” 

Toni’s smile is proud. She gives Shelby a look, one that the blonde can’t quite pinpoint but knows it makes her warm all over. 

“Alright.” 

“Alright?” 

“Yup. Let’s go see if Caroline is one in a million.” 

\- - - - - 

“One in a million is actually a generous statistic,” Dr. Quinn Miller, the current head of neurosurgery, says with calculated calmness. 

“I understand, Dr. Miller.” Shelby’s voice is small, even to her own ears.

“Your patient’s chances are far less likely than that.” 

“Yeah, you said that,” Toni growls. 

“For argument’s sake,” Shelby begs, handing the attending Caroline’s chart, “let’s say it’s one in a million. That would mean seven thousand people on this planet could be that one.”

“That’s a massive oversimplification.” 

“Respectfully, Dr. Miller, nothing about this patient is simple. We have -” 

“Respectfully, Dr. Goodkind, I believe this to be a waste of everyone’s time. I’ll be going now.” 

Shelby is entirely defeated. _How do I fight for my patients if I’m not even given a proper chance?_ she wonders.

“Would you excuse me for a second?” Toni asks. Shelby nods and attempts to blink away her frustration.

Toni follows after Quinn. Shelby, known throughout her childhood for being quite the eavesdropper, waits a few seconds before saying _fuck it_ and leaning secretively against the perpendicular hallway to where Toni is now talking to her fellow attending.

“ - then she won’t survive,” she hears Toni say. “We have no other leads, and this is entirely a possibility. We absolutely _have_ to do this scan.”

“There’s a fraction of a point to it,” Quinn replies.

“And I give a fraction of a shit.” 

Peaking around the corner, Shelby can see Toni get dangerously close to Quinn’s face.

“I -” Quinn stammers. 

“Stop talking. Shut up and listen to me. This hospital survives because we believe in each other and we trust each other. This hospital _thrives_ because we take risks for all the right reasons. I am not going to let you do anything that means these interns don’t feel free and safe to speak their minds and fight for their patients. So, we are going to get the _fucking_ scan. Understood?” 

Quinn nods quickly and scurries away. 

Shelby walks back to where she was previously speaking with Dr. Miller. She finds herself yet again working hard to fight a smile - all because of that goddamn peds attending. 

\- - - - - 

Caroline prepares to lay within the CT machine. A nurse gives her careful instructions to not to move a muscle when the scan begins. On the other side of the wall, Shelby gazes at her through the glass of the window. She can feel Toni’s eyes on the side of her face. She spares the attending a glance and doesn’t like what she sees. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Shelby whispers. 

“And how am I looking at you?”

“Like you’ve seen my boobs.”

“Oh I’ve seen a whole lot more than just your boobs,” Toni quips. 

“Well, make it so your face doesn’t reflect that.”

“My face is an accurate depiction of our circumstance.”

“No, this is an accurate depiction of our circumstances,” Shelby holds up two middle fingers. 

“You’re funny. You make me laugh. I actually fear I could fall in love with you.” 

“Well that wouldn't be surprising because I’m fucking amazing. But you’re not allowed to think that.”

Toni laughs just like she had when she was in Shelby’s living room that morning prior, loud and uninhibited. Shelby hates the way that she loves the crinkle in the corner of her eyes and the faint dimples of her cheeks. “Fair enough,” she says, and turns her eyes to Caroline getting in the machine. Quinn walks in then. He’s clearly nervous. He looks at Toni and clears his throat, but Toni doesn’t turn. 

“Nice of you to join us, Dr. Miller,” she says sardonically. 

“Dr. Miller,” Shelby says, “thank you for requesting this scan. I appreciate it, regardless of the results.” 

“Of course, Dr. Goodkind. I was silly to even deny you of this meaningless scan.” 

If looks could kill, Quinn Miller would be a dead man - Toni Shalifoe’s glare would make certain of that. 

The tech comes in to operate the scan, and they all stare patiently at the monitor as they wait for Caroline’s results to come through. No one comments on the nervous bouncing of Shelby’s leg or the way Toni bites at her cuticles anxiously. 

When the monitor presents a clear image of the patient’s brain, gasps all blend together with _holy shit_ ’s and _no way_ ’s. 

“Right there,” the tech operating the scan says, pointing to the darker spot on the screen. 

“She’s hemorrhaging,” Quinn says. 

“Bleeding into her brain,” Toni confirms. She shoots Shelby a quick glance, who is frozen in place. She can’t believe it. She was _right_. 

“I can fix it, but it needs to be fast. We need to book an OR right away. Dr. Goodkind, I humbly request you scrub in with us.”

“Wha- me?” 

“Absolutely. A well-earned place by my side. I’ll see you in there, make sure Caroline is prepped and ready to go. Dr. Shalifoe, I trust you’ll update the parents?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, sprinting awkwardly down the hallway. 

“Shelby,” Toni starts. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Shelby breathes. 

“Freak out later, prep Caroline now.” 

Shelby nods aggressively and appreciates the comforting squeeze Toni gives to her arm as she leaves to fill in Caroline’s parents. Shelby doesn’t let her eyes follow the brunette, just runs to Caroline’s room - hopefully looking a bit less intense than Quinn did. 

\- - - - - 

The surgery blows Shelby’s mind - ironically, since she looks through magnifying glasses to see the literal inside of a human being’s brain. Her own mind can hardly believe the sight of it, and she exits the OR with a rush she’s never truly felt before. 

“Promise you’ll forgive me for doubting the probability of your diagnosis,” Dr. Miller says as she cleans his hands post-surgery in the scrub room. Shelby, having just entered and taking her mask and gloves off, shakes her head kindly. 

“No forgiveness necessary. I would have been skeptical at best, as well.” 

Quinn smiles and, on his way out the door, says, “welcome to the Mayo Clinic.” Shelby can’t help but beam. She’s high on adrenaline and joy and a flawless surgical performance. 

Toni enters the scrub room just as Quinn exits. Her smile is a bit tired despite not being too directly involved in the surgery itself. She shucks off her gloves and begins to wash her hands.

“Good work in there.” 

“That was the coolest thing I’ve ever been a part of in my entire life,” Shelby says, ignoring the compliment. 

Toni laughs breathlessly. “Yeah, it’s something else, huh?” 

“It’s… ethereal.” 

“Good word choice, Blondie.” 

“Thanks,” Shelby snorts. She shakes her hands dry but leans against the big scrub sink. She looks at Toni, at the flush of her cheeks and the quirk in her smile, and feels an entirely different kind of high. “Seriously. Thank you.” 

Toni wipes her hands with a towel. “What for?” 

“A lot,” Shelby laughs. “Everything. Mostly for believing me.” 

“You’re welcome,” Toni says sweetly. 

Shelby lets herself lean closer, lets herself privately celebrate the way Toni seems to welcome her into her space. It’s not a good idea - she knows she isn’t. She’s the one who said they couldn’t talk about it. Shelby is the one who wanted to pretend it never happened. 

All the same, she leans forward and murmurs, “I’ve never done that before.” 

“Done what? Brain surgery?” 

“Well, yes,” Shelby giggles, “but I was talking more about, um, the other night.” 

“Oh. So you’ve never fucked a random woman who turned out to be your boss?” Toni teases.

“Sort of.” 

“Okay, which part then?” Toni raises her eyebrows. “Have you never hooked up with a stranger before?” 

“No,” Shelby hesitates. “That I’ve done.”

She sees the wheels turn in Toni’s head, and then she sees the realization hit her. “Holy shit, Shelby. Am I the first woman you’ve had sex with?” 

“Maybe,” Shelby says too quickly. She knows that her cheeks are redder than a stop-light. 

“Wow,” Toni drawls, “wow, wow, wow.”

“Okay -” 

“I mean, wow. I have learned so much about you in the past few days.” 

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm. I learned that you’re from Texas, and that you hate peas - like you viscerally despise peas,” Toni says, recounting their conversations from the bar. “I learned that you are starting to love the snow, which is good because you moved to _fucking_ Minnesota. _And_ I learned that you love it when I bite down -” 

“Okay, Christ, that’s _enough_ ,” Shelby whisper-yells, but she can’t help the laugh that escapes her lips. “Good lord, are you always this fucking crass?”

“You betcha.” 

Shelby hums. 

“Hey,” Toni says, suddenly serious, “I’m sorry if -” 

“No, you were great,” Shelby interrupts. She doesn’t care how that sentence was going to end, all she knows is that she didn’t want to hear it. She wants to make sure Toni knows how much she wanted her; she maybe even wants Toni to know how much she still wants her.

“Great?” Toni repeats, a quirk in her brow. 

Shelby rolls her eyes. “ _Very_ great.” 

“Okay. Cool,” Toni says shyly.

“Um,” Shelby shifts from one foot to the other and looks around, as if to make sure their conversation hasn’t attracted any attention despite being alone in the scrub room. “Was I, you know … also?” 

“Also what?” Toni prompts. There’s a frustrating teasing look in her eye that has Shelby releasing an embarrassed huff.

  
“Never mind, I don’t even -” 

“Shelby.” 

“Mm?” 

“You were perfect.” 

Her blush returns tenfold as she tries to fight back a smile. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Perfect.”

God, Shelby wants to kiss her. She wants to kiss her so badly. She wants to get drunk all over again, but off of pink lips instead of tequila. She wants to know what it’s like to be sober with that smooth skin beneath her. 

“Hey, look,” Toni continues, unprompted, “I had an amazing time with you- and not just the sex. But getting to know you, talking to you… I really enjoyed it. So, just let me know if the line you drew shifts, okay?”

Shelby watches longingly as Toni exits the scrub room. 

Fuck. That line isn’t going to last. It isn’t going to last at all. 

\- - - - - 

Shelby steps out of the hospital and into the cool Minnesota air, her 48-hour first shift over and done with. 

“Yo, Goodkind!” 

Rachel waves her over from the parking lot where she stands with Ian, who has his hands tucked shyly in his pockets, and Fatin, who is twerking.

“First shift as interns is _over_ , baby!” Fatin screams. 

Shelby laughs, deep from her belly. 

_Shit,_ Shelby thinks fondly. She _definitely_ found her people. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the support so far! yall are dope. stay safe  
> https://the-junebugg.tumblr.com/


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